


One Day at A Time: Goretober 2018 DMC Challenge

by SilverEyesAndFallingSnow



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Devil May Cry 3, Devil May Cry 4 - Freeform, Devil May Cry 5, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Fighting, Goretober 2018, Incest, Knifeplay, M/M, Panic Attacks, Prosthetics, Sibling Incest, The Best White Haired Boys, White Haired Boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverEyesAndFallingSnow/pseuds/SilverEyesAndFallingSnow
Summary: What fandom is more perfect for a 2018 Goretober challenge then Devil May Cry? With a list of 31 challenges its sure to be one hell of a party. While chapters don't necessarily tie together, they will all focus around Nero, Dante and Vergil. Some will be more serious, some more smutty, some just gory. Heck even I don't know! I'm just making it up as I go!





	1. Surrounded

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my 2018 Goretober collection. I have been replaying the original Devil May Cry games and getting hyped for the new game. Hence Goretober, DMC style.

It was ironic really. How long had it been? Three, four weeks tops? It should be long enough to adjust, adapt. He was young, in the prime of his life. What excuse did he have for wallowing like this?

Except every night he came home after a long day of demon hunting, drained physically and mentally, he had to look at them.

It wasn’t a big deal at first. The first time he managed to get an upgrade, the old one was casually thrown aside. After all, if the new one broke it would be nice to have a backup. But Nico was a genius who couldn’t stop herself, and Nero was a sucker who couldn’t resist the next new thing.

Soon version two was upgraded and another one was carelessly left at home. One on the table, one on the counter. But the more he fought, the more additions he needed and the more he replaced the older models.

It was frightening how quickly his apartment became filled with them. Some trashed and broken, others just outdated. Nero honestly was just too busy with his work to take the time to clean up the growing mess. Or perhaps he just subconsciously couldn’t bring himself to throw them out.

It wasn’t a specific number that tipped the scales. It was just that one day, suddenly it hit him.

The fight that day had been particularly hard. All it took was one mid-level demon and a hoard of small fries to turn a normal job into an all-day event. In the end he was able to beat the head demon, but at the cost of sacrificing his robotic arm. His whole body was aching. But what was left of his arm hurt the worst. One tough fight was enough to bring back the phantom pains.

He didn’t like to think about the first few days after losing his arm. As a part demon the physical pain disappeared after the wound healed. It had only taken an hour at the most to look as if it had happened years ago. The problem was that the pain was in the fingers that no longer existed, the forearm that wasn’t there. Nothing he did could make the sharp spikes of pain go away. Or the panic of something so intrinsic to his being suddenly being gone.

He had thought he was past that, but apparently not.

It was a mistake to go home to a house full of them.

A house full of robotic arms.

Arms that mocked him.

His arm was gone, it was gone, it was gone, gone, gone and yet arms were everywhere, broken arms, useless arms, all the arms, discarded, unused, they were everywhere but his arm was gone, so why where these arms here, did they want to mock him, hurt him, it hurt, everything hurt, and his fingers were asleep but that hand had been gone for weeks so why did it hurt, why wouldn’t it stop hurting so much and no matter what he did he couldn’t replace what was gone, but the house was full of them, all the arms, why couldn’t he throw them away, why couldn’t he discard them, was it because he had lost his own, he couldn’t get rid of them, the hollow replacement because his was gone and it was never coming back and he could let another one go but they were just mocking him now, and why couldn’t it all just stop, stop, stop…

Stop.

Huddled on the couch, shaking, Nero just had to stop. He couldn’t always be strong. Just this one night he needed to break down. Ignoring the tears and the way his head was spinning, Nero curled up and let the world fade away.

The next day he was back at it, Devil Breaker version 16 equipped. He fought like normal, all smirks and taunts.

When he made it home he headed straight to the table where the first Devil Break rested. He picked it up, looked at the trash, then put it back down. Maybe some day he would be able to throw it away, but for now, despite how healed it looked outside that wound was still too raw. Another day perhaps, but not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 1: Extra Limbs


	2. Take the Wins Where You Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set some time after the 4th game but before the 2nd game. In other words its Dante and Nero because these two need more interaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole Goretober thing started because my two artist roommates are doing it. I can't draw but they made me write. You guys benefit. In summary this is all their fault.

Undercover missions were the _worst._ Sure these types of missions were necessary to get to the root of the problem but they were a complete pain in the ass to carry out. Nero still wasn’t sure why he had to be the one to get kidnapped for an underground demon fight ring.

Sure, it was convenient that he could seem weaponless but actually be storing multiple devil arms in his Devil Bringer. Except the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the old man’s excuse was pretty thin. Afterall he had seen Dante switch weapons in the middle of a fight countless times. Sure Rebellion was always on his back but where were the other weapons coming from huh? Nero wasn’t the only one with a strange demonic storage space…

Regardless it was way too late to late to be backing out now. It was honestly shocking that he had been able to make it this far without loosing his temper and beating the shit out of his “escorts”. It had been easy enough to get captured. Turned out walking in sketchy places with a bright, glowing demon arm did in fact attract the worst kind of attention. So getting captured was a cake walk.

Actually allowing himself to be manhandled and dragged around god knows where? Yeah that was a lot less easy. At least the trip had been a short one. It was good to know that all the research into mysterious disappearances did narrow the location down.

So here he was in some large underground arena, surrounded by demons and human scum. Nero couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of an underground fight ring literally being underground. God demons were unoriginal.

His jacket had been taken, along with everything but his pants and shoes. The “warpaint” they gave him didn’t really make up for the lack of cover. He honestly didn’t really like showing his Devil Bringer but he didn’t really have a choice. Yet another reason to rip Dante a new one once he got out of here.

The plan was simple enough, get captured, escape, round up the team and come back guns a ‘blazing. Except instead of just being brought to a cell or something he was being led to the main fighting ring. Great, well nothing like a fight to work out some anger. He would just have to down play his abilities so he didn’t ruin his cover.

The arena was a good 20 feet across in the general shape of a circle. The walls were twice that height before the seating area started. The dirt floor was pretty unforgiving looking, and he could see the dents in the walls from past victims meeting hard stone. It stank from the smell of too many bodies in one place and underlying that was the stench of blood and demon.

One the bright side the guards that had been towing him around had finally left. On the other hand he was in the center of a gladiator style arena for demons. Still, forced or not, the promise of a fight had his adrenalin pumping. He couldn’t really make out what the announcer was saying but it seemed they were about to send out his opponent.

He only had a few moments to wonder about what hell denizen he was about to be faced with before a gate across the ring opened. He was surprised to see that the silhouette was human shaped. The young hunter couldn’t help the sudden nervousness that filled him at the realization.

Usually only strong demons could shape themselves in a human form. From that group, only the highest level could look convincingly human and hold it. But it made no sense, why would a high-level demon be in a place like this? 

It had to just be some mid-level demon. At least the fight would be interesting. As the figure stepped further into the ring Nero was able to make out more detail. The demon was also clad in just pants and shoes, apparently shirts weren’t allowed period, good to know Nero wasn’t special.

However where Nero had swirling blue and white markings the other man was colored with sharp red lines zig zagging across his chest and arms. The man was tall, had black hair and was wearing red leather pants…

Wait, red leather pants? Nero quickly looked closer at the face of the man in front of him and yep he knew that face. What the hell was the old man doing here with his hair badly dyed? It only took a few moments for them to meet in the center of the ring. From afar it probably looked like they were sizing each other up. In reality Nero was franticly sorting through a mental list of questions and trying to order them by most important.

Nero figured he might as well get straight to the point “What the hell are you doing here?”

Except instead of answering like any sane person, the older hunter just smirked and started to circle Nero. The crowd had gone quite so the sound of the announcer yelling ‘fight’ was crystal clear. Before Nero had the chance to ask anything else Dante was rushing towards him.

The younger hunter managed to catch the punch aimed at him but the force was strong enough to push him back a few feet. Apparently, the other hunter wasn’t messing around. Fine, if Dante wanted to fight, Nero wasn’t about to back down. Sure the older man had more experience with swords but when it came to hand to hand combat Nero had the advantage. It was time to put the old man in his place.

Before Dante had the chance to break free, Nero returned the punch with interest. The large apparition of his Devil Bringer collided squarely with the other man’s face, sending him flying across the stadium.

“How was that?” Nero taunted while Dante picked himself up from the ground.

However Dante still didn’t say anything, instead he just brushed some dirt off his shoulders and made a ‘come hither’ jester with his right hand.

Nero couldn’t help the snarl that formed at the demon hunter’s actions. The silent treatment was reminding him way too much of their first encounter back on Fortuna. Dante had just been messing with him for that whole fight. Well if he thought this fight was going to end the same way, he was in for a big surprise. Nero wasn’t the same naive kid anymore.

Nero decided to make the first move, but before he got in close he used his Devil Bringer to reach out and grab Dante. However the man in red dodged the ghostly hand, jumping over it and towards Nero. He landed right in front of Nero, and before the younger hunter could react he dropped down, and swept the legs out from underneath him.

Cursing, Nero started to fall backwards. Before he could hit the ground though, Dante grabbed his human arm and started to spin him before letting go and sending Nero flying. Face met wall as Nero crashed into the side of the arena, leaving yet another dent. Picking himself up from the ground he turned to spit out some blood in his mouth.

Ok if Dante didn’t want to play nice, then Nero was done holding back. He wasn’t about to let the older man make a joke of him, especially in front of a giant audience. This time Nero decide to take the offensive. Once again he charged Dante, but instead of punching he just straight tackled the older hunter to the ground. He couldn’t help but grin at the surprised look on the other man’s face.

Not letting his advantage go to waste he immediately started punching him with his demonic arm. He landed a few good hits in before Dante was able to throw him off. At this point the crowd was going crazy and the roar of the masses only fueled Nero’s bloodlust. He was going to pay Dante back for all the shit he had been pulling lately.

Except Dante was fast, too fast. Before Nero could get up, the older man was on top of him, in the reverse position from earlier. Instead of attacking though he was just pinning Nero to the ground, holding his arms down while sitting on his chest. The younger hunter tried to break free but when it came to raw power, Dante was still stronger. Instead he settled for snarling at the older man, pissed at being held down.

“Woah calm down kid.” Dante finally replied with a shit eating grin “I’m just having a little fun. It’s an arena, might as well put on a show.”

Nero saw red. “You want a show old man? Fine let’s put on a show!” he yelled before suddenly triggering, the knockback of the sudden demonic energy sending Dante flying back a few feet. Fuck Dante and his games, he was going to make that dumbass piece of shit pay. His cover for the mission could go to hell.

The weight of Yamato in his hand was comforting. The blade practically sang when he swung it, sending energy slashes at the other man. He knew he still was a rookie when it came to wielding the katana but the sword was still fast and powerful regardless. It was satisfying as hell to watch Dante struggle to dodge and even take a few hits.

Seeing an opening, Nero rushed Dante, utilizing the insane speed his devil trigger and Yamato lent him. He brought the sword down, prepared to land a heavy blow when he suddenly was blocked. The sound of metal meeting metal was loud, and the shockwave from the hit sent Nero stumbling back a few paces. The source of the sound became clear once Nero took in the sight before him.

There was Rebellion pointed at him, the familiar silver broadsword gleaming in the light. More intimidating however was the large red demon who was holding the weapon. The first time Nero had seen Dante fully triggered it had honestly freaked him out just a little. But he was past that now and he was more interested in making the man in front of him bleed.  

“Let’s see what you got kid!” Dante yelled, his usual taunting tone being warped by his demonic form, making it seem far more threatening.

The red demon then flexed his wings before flying up past the walls. Nero had always found it unfair that the older man could fly in his triggered form. It seemed like a great power to have. However Nero had been practicing and he had learned to teleport using Yamato.

In the blink of an eye, Nero met Dante in the air and attacked with Yamato, sending multiple blade of energy at the red demon. Dante dodged, and the attacks flew into the crowd behind him. Nero barely had time to bring up his sword before Dante retaliated, sending Nero barreling into the crowd behind him. Ignoring the screams of the hell creatures in the crowd, Nero leapt at Dante, Yamato leading.

It was utter chaos. In their triggered forms both half demons were ridiculously powerful. For every attack that landed on one other, countless others were dodged and ended up hitting the crowd around them. Nero could care less about accidently killing the demon scum, hell that was what this mission was supposed to be about anyway. He was just more focused on destroying one particular demon instead of the ones he was supposed to be targeting.

It was hard to hit the red devil, Dante certainly had the advantage in the air. But Nero was able to land a few good hits. It was vaguely unsettling how pleased Yamato seemed at the taste of the older man’s blood. However all the teleporting was a huge drain on Nero’s energy and soon he was forced to de-trigger.

Panting, he took stock of his injuries. Dante had managed to land quite a few hits himself, but it seemed Nero’s devil trigger had healed the worst of it. He was still sluggishly bleeding from a dozen wounds but nothing that would require stitches. Looking around he realized that full extent of the damage the fight had caused. The stadium was a mess, benches were destroyed, rubble was everywhere and blood littered the ground, no doubt from the countless demons who had been caught in the crossfire.

Before Nero could survey the arena more, a strong gust of air signaled the arrival of the other hunter. Nero tensed, not sure what to expect but the other man immediately de-triggered once he touched down.

It had been hard to see how much damage Nero was doing when Dante was in his devil form. However seeing him human again, it was clear that the older hunter was equally beat up and exhausted. Nero couldn’t help but feel pride at how much damage he had done to the seemingly untouchable man.

Smiling Dante reached his hand out to Nero who was sitting down to catch his breath and said “Well that was certainly one hell of a fight.”  

With a resigned sigh Nero took the offered hand and let himself be pulled up and replied “And whose fault is that? You never did answer my question, why are you even here?”

“Well I figured you might want a little back up. Besides how could I miss out on seeing you shirtless and kicking ass? More importantly I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing me shirtless and kicking ass” Dante said with a light hearted laugh.

“Oh shut up you ass” Nero said with a grumble but couldn’t help the slight blush that graced his features from the older man’s ridiculous flirting. Why did he put up with this man again?

“And why part of that made you feel the need to dye your hair black?” sure the older man’s hair had gone back to white after de-triggering but it had been weird to see before that.

Dante grinned and replied “well I didn’t want to blow my cover. I am pretty famous in demonic circles and white hair and red leather sort of stand out. So black hair it was.”

Well that was as good a reason as any…

“What about the mission?” Nero asked, wanting to move on “Sure a good chunk got caught in the middle of our fight, but I’m sure plenty made it out. I thought the whole point of this stupid undercover thing was to catch them all at once, what a waste.”

Once again a stupid grin lit up Dante’s face as he responded “Ah don’t worry about it. Once I got the location from following you, I called Lady and Trish. I decided to stall for time by fighting you while I let them set up at the two exits. Once I had given them enough time I took the fight to the crowd and whoever we missed the other two took care of.”

“Are you serious? Why the hell wasn’t I told about this little plan of yours?” the younger man replied while glaring at the older man.

Suddenly Dante looked a little more sheepish, “Well technically we were supposed to fight together and take out the majority and Lady and Trish were just going to handle any escapees. Except I might have gotten carried away with fighting… Damn now Lady is going to demand a bigger cut just because she had to do more work…”

Scoffing Nero just replied “Serves you right. You are annoying as hell old man.”

Putting a hand to his heart Dante replied in a fake hurt tone “It’s not my fault it got out of hand” before his tone turned more mocking and he continued “besides I’m not old, after all this ‘old man’ just kicked your ass.”

“The hell you did!” Nero immediately replied as they slowly made their way out of the stadium.    

“Whatever kid” Dante said no phased “It was pretty fun though, I haven’t gone all out like that for a long time. I mean I was holding back for your sake but…”

“Give it a rest” Nero said as he shook his head. But he couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“On a side note, since when can you teleport?” Dante asked after a few minutes of silence.

Nero couldn’t help but feel proud as he replied “I figured it out awhile ago while practicing. I just haven’t had the chance to use it in a real fight.”

Laughing Dante replied “Damn well you got to use it plenty today” then after moment he added, almost offhandedly, “it was pretty hot.”

Nero instantly turned red. He still wasn’t used to Dante saying those kinds of things. Even though they were in a relationship it was hard not get embarrassed by how frank Dante could be.

“Oh shut up” the younger hunter said. But before Dante could tease him more Nero playfully shoved Dante and said, “Seeing you in you fight in your demon form was pretty hot too.”

The slight blush across Dante’s face was the best victory of the whole day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Two: Blood Sport


	3. Always Coming Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante and Vergil through the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made it three days so far. Enjoy some Dante/Vergil angst.

The fascination had started when he was young. Of course back then it had been more subconscious.

He had been twelve when he received his first sword. Not Rebellion of course, at the time that sword was longer than he was tall. But Rebellion was his goal and he threw himself into training with a short sword so that one day he could use the impressive demon arm.

He didn’t have the patience for formal lessons. He was more of a trial and error kind of learner. Luckily he had the perfect sparing partner, Vergil, who was just as eager to try out his new wakizashi.

There had been no real hate between the brothers back then. Still their sparing sessions often left them bruised and bloody. The swords they fought with not devil arms, but sharpened steel still could cut through clothing and flesh.

Given their demonic heritage the countless cuts were shrugged off. They would keep fighting till one would drop from exhaustion, often ending in draws were neither could swing their sword anymore. It was those moments, swords locked together, panting from exertion, cuts stinging from the sweat dripping into them, that Dante felt the most alive.     

As they grew older the difference in their styles soon became apparent. Where Vergil’s smaller, lighter blade lent itself more to speed and agility, Dante’s heavier blade was better for power strikes. However their father, Sparda, insisted that they practice with each other’s swords too. Dante learned the benefits of being quick on his feet, and Vergil learned how deal devastating blows in one hit.

Many a day were spent outside, playing and roughhousing, only to evolve into sparing. Always under the watchful eye of their father who would sometimes step in to correct one of the brother’s stances or to quickly show a new move, and let the twins figure the mechanics out themselves. In truth most of it came naturally, no doubt due to their less than human heritage.

Until suddenly one day that ever-watching presence was gone. It was hard to accept that their father had left them, impossible really, to think any force could be powerful enough to remove him. But that was the fact of it and the brothers had no choice but to accept that.

It was after this time, while their mother was grieving that Vergil started to drift away. He became more focused on training, often spending whole nights practicing alone in the moonlight. The sparing session that once had been fairly even started to skew, Vergil decisively winning more and more.

It wasn’t necessarily the loosing that started to build the animosity in Dante. More it was the changing attitude of his brother that grated on his nerves. The more haughty and untouchable his brother became the more Dante relished every time he caused his brother to bleed. What were once friendly matches soon became serious fights were the brothers were out for blood. Never the intention to kill, just hurt.

Perhaps more damaging however were the verbal fights that soon started outside of sparing. As the twins’ personalities started to become more polarized, the difference in ideology became more apparent. However those things were always put aside when it came time to sword fighting, all focus on the match.

It was during this shift that they received their devil arms. Sparda had instructed Eva to give the twins their respective blades if he ever disappeared. Lost in grief she had forgotten that promise until later. But by then, the twins were clearly growing more and more hostile towards each other.

She struggled with the decision of whether or not to gift them the powerful weapons but concern for their safety outweighed everything else. Her husband was gone, she just wanted her sons to be able to protect themselves.     

It was because of this that she gifted them the devil arms. They were still too young to properly wield them, but both brothers took to wearing their weapons constantly. When they fought, they lacked the earlier grace they had, but made up for it with the power of their new weapons.

Dante soon became familiar with the feeling of Yamato’s blade slicing threw his flesh. He also learned the feeling of Rebellion’s edge cutting threw Vergil. As blood splattered and manic grins lit their faces, Dante relished in these sparing sessions. It was the only time he saw his brother drop his haughty persona. It seemed these matches were the only time he and his brother saw eye to eye.

Except those weapons proved to be worthless when the demons attacked. Dante heard the scream, and knew he was far too late. Despite the smoke filling the air, he rushed to the source of the sound. Only to find the horrific sight of his mother, brutally ripped apart, blood everywhere.

Worse yet was the sight of Vergil next to her, laying on the ground covered in blood. He still held Yamato, and the multiple dead demons around them were no doubt his work. But one young teenager could not fight a hoard of demons unscathed.

Dante rushed to his brother’s side, terrified at the thought of losing all his remaining family in one night. To his surprise and utter relief, the other twin was still alive, although heavily injured. Vergil had seemingly been able to kill off the hoard of demons before succumbing to his injuries.

There was no guarantee that more demons weren’t on their way. Frightened and unsure of what to do, smoke building from fires around him, Dante grabbed his brother and their swords and ran. It was hard to leave behind his mother, but he had to accept that the fire would take her body and everything else.

From that point forward the two brothers had only each other. The death of Eva hit both of them hard, coupled with losing everything, it was almost unbearable. The growing hate and rivalry was put aside as the brothers learned how to survive on their own. The learning curve was brutal. It became apparent that they had been living in a world removed from reality. They learned that two half demons did not fit in.

During this time the two became co-dependent, perhaps unhealthily so. But there was little choice in the matter. Despite the forced closeness, they still spared regularly, both determined to become stronger and never allow their weakness to cause the death of another.

After a few years together, other desires started to emerge. As they started to fully grow into their weapons, their bodies changed in other ways too. Suddenly the fights started to gain a new level of tension, one that neither knew how to resolve. It wasn’t until a particularly brutal fight, one where both brothers were cut up and panting, swords locked, chest to chest, that the tension snapped.

Neither made the first move, it was just that suddenly lips met lips and swords were forgotten as hands grasped franticly at one other. For two young half devils with no one else in the world to rely on, they only had each other to work out this new kind of energy. It was over quickly, neither having the stamina to go on for long. Frantic rutting had gotten both off, and in the aftermath neither knew what to say.

They knew such activities were heavily frowned upon, and neither would directly instigate it. However more and more often, a sparing session would quickly turn into something else altogether. Something about the adrenaline and the smell and taste of blood made the darker side of them wild.

They soon moved on from simply getting each other off, experimenting and growing bolder as they had more and more experience. It was no surprise that they soon moved on to full sex. Vergil was the first to top having completely beating Dante in their earlier fight. However Dante won the next fight, and the twins often switched back and forth.

Dante loved it when he had Vergil under him and often would lick at the cuts he had managed to score on the other twin, fascinated by the taste and enthralled with the sight of the open wounds. However there was something almost equally thrilling about being at Vergil’s mercy, the sting of Yamato’s cuts complementing the pleasure of the feeling of Vergil inside him.

Despite the growing physical relationship between the twins, the old differences started to come back with a vengeance. At 17 they were hormone filled and both had terrible tempers to go with it. Where Dante was explosives and fiery, Vergil was a cold, silent kind of fury.

Vergil was the one to leave, suddenly disappearing one day. Honestly Dante wasn’t surprised, he had been seriously considering leaving himself. He was old enough to be on his own, he didn’t need his brother anymore.

He took up the demon hunting business more for a lack of choice then straight revenge. He didn’t exactly have a wide set of skills, and he wasn’t about to become some body guard or assassin. Plus it was always satisfying to kill demons, they had taken everything from him, some payback was in order. And sometimes he would save someone, and deep down he liked that he could help. Even if he hid such feelings under an attitude of indifference.

About a year latter he ran into Vergil once again. The reunion was less than happy. Dante couldn’t believe the crap Vergil was spouting off about. Opening a portal to the demon world? Had Vergil lost it? The meeting was brief, but Dante made a promise to himself. If Vergil ever did try to do something so stupid, he would stop him. Period.    

Unfortunately, that promise was called upon one year later. As soon as Dante saw that giant tower rising out of the ground he knew Vergil was responsible. The creepy sidekick who showed up at his business was also kind of a big hint.

He fought his way up, only to confront his brother in the rain. A suiting atmosphere for such a meeting. It had been two years since he fought his brother, and he found himself falling into the same patterns as he had when they were younger.

Dante did his best to ignore the sentimental feelings, but nostalgia crept its way into his mind. It was surreal, fighting like this, the rain falling all around them as sparks flew from the clash of blades. Vergil had learned a few new tricks, but Dante had improved too in the last couple of years.

However the fight eventually ended with Dante’s defeat. The feel of Yamato piercing him was almost familiar in a sick and twisted way. He could feel the traitorous stirring of arousal, many fights in their childhood ending in such a fashion, even as he glared daggers at his brother. But then Vergil took his half of their mother’s amulet and struck Dante down with his own sword.

He honestly thought he was going to die up on that roof. The blade had pierced his heart, the one place he could not heal easily. But instead of his vision going black, everything turned red. The sudden spike of energy and power was welcomed, as he attacked his retreating brother.

His newly discovered devil trigger was incredibly helpful in the tower. When he fought his brother a second time, he didn’t hold back. Neither did Vergil and the red and blue part demons fought with everything they had. The feel of Yamato blade and the sight of his brother covered in blood, set a fire in Dante’s veins. If he was reading his brother right, he wasn’t the only one affected.

Lady charging in was a mood killer, but the clown really messed it all up. Nothing like getting beaten by a guy in a purple jumpsuit to ruin a good fight. As the center of the tower started to rise, Dante watched helplessly as Vergil rolled off the side into the depths. But he knew Vergil wouldn’t die from something like that, weakened or not. So he headed up, knowing that Vergil would head that way too.

Seeing Arkam turn into a giant purple blob was a surprise. He didn’t really expect that one. For a blob he was tough, but Dante wasn’t about to let the man go. But then Vergil arrived out of nowhere. The backup was welcomed, even if he verbally denied it. Despite the years of hate, they fell into sync almost immediately. Wordlessly they both stuck their weapons, causing them to pierce Arkam and come out the other side. Old memories of practice fighting came back as Dante gripped Yamato, and he knew Vergil was the same with Rebellion. Together they landed the critical blows to the purple creature, before shooting the man to finish it.

Of course the truce immediately broke after that. The fight in the hell river was brutal, Vergil was just as skilled with his katana as he was with the broadsword Force Edge. But Dante prevailed, the final blow decisive. But it wasn’t fatal, he couldn’t kill Vergil, despite it all.

But Vergil took that choice from him. Dante desperately reached out as Vergil fell, but his hand only met the edge of Yamato. There was no pleasure in the sting that accompanied that, and the emotional hurt nearly brought Dante to his knees.

Years latter he would unknowingly fight Vergil again. Seeing that amulet after 10 years and realizing he had just killed his brother was heartbreaking. Still, knowing that Vergil had been nothing but a puppet all that time, enslaved to Mundus was worse than knowing he had killed him. Releasing him from such torment was the only thing he could do.

Dante never thought he would see Vergil again, at least not until he bit the bullet himself. But one day, after all the stuff on Fortuna with Nero, Vergil showed up. He had been trapped on the island, subject to experiments but had gained a much needed energy boast when the hell gate on the island had been opened. With the lab being destroyed and the castle abandoned, he had managed to escape.

The years of suffering had left their scars on Vergil but they had also taught him a lot. Dante couldn’t believe it, but soon Vergil was living at Devil May Cry. Their relationship grew again, despite all the bad blood, the connection between the two never could die.

When trust had been reestablished, it opened the door to a relationship. It was inevitable that the physical part would come back too.

No longer did it take a fight to end up in bed. They were older and more mature now and didn’t need the pretense of a fight anymore. However, Dante still craved his brother’s blood and Vergil was the same. Their swords were too big for such activities but Dante had been collecting weapons for a long time and had a few knives to spare.

The sting of the cuts brought back many memories both good and bad. It wasn’t pure anymore, but Dante preferred that. Every cut and every sting reminded him of all that had happened. It represented the history of their relationship. Dante needed that pain to remind him that it was real, that his brother was here with him. The past couldn’t be changed, it would hang over them forever. But at the feel of the blade, he focused on the pain, the pleasure and the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 3: Playing with Knives 
> 
> If you like feel free to leave a kudo and/or comment. I would love feedback as I work on this collection. If you have any suggestions I would love to hear them! I would also really like to know what chapters people like the most. It really helps me develop my writing.


	4. There is Much to be Learned From a Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more Dante and Nero for your reading pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its 10:39 PM where I am at so this one is still on time for me... Just kind of cutting it close.

It hadn’t taken long for Dante to realize that Nero didn’t like showing his Devil Bringer. When the younger hunter had moved into the Devil May Cry office, Dante didn’t question Nero wearing his blue jacket constantly.

It wasn’t like Dante could judge anyway since he also tended to wear his signature jacket constantly too. Long had passed the days of him wandering around shirtless like he had when he was a teenager.

But liking a jacket didn’t really explain why after two weeks of living with the kid, the only time he saw the arm was when Nero was fighting and had rolled up his sleeves. Dante was a curious person, but despite common assumption, he did know when to respect someone’s privacy. After all it wasn’t too hard to piece the puzzle together.

The younger hunter never explicitly stated why he suddenly showed up one day, looking for a job and a place to stay. But the absolute silence about Fortuna and Kyrie made it pretty clear that things hadn’t ended well.

Dante wasn’t that surprised, it was unfortunate but an island full of super religious folks wasn’t exactly the best place to be part demon. The whole island stank of hypocrisy from the git go, and a large scale demon attack didn’t really help matters.

So Nero’s reluctance to show his arm in public was reasonable, even if it was unfounded. Capulet City was full of all types, and honestly a demonic arm wasn’t really the strangest thing you could expect to find. What started to bug Dante was that Nero felt that way at home with him...

Sure Nero could be all uncomfortable about being part demon, but why did it matter when Dante was half demon himself? Dante didn’t like the idea of Nero being ashamed of his heritage, but he could at least understand the source of that feeling. What he couldn’t understand was why Nero seemed to forget that Dante was in the same boat. Hell he had even more demon blood in him than the kid.

Then again, he didn’t have an arm that glowed bright blue constantly. The more he observed the younger hybrid, the more he came to the realization it had more to do with the physical look than what it represented. Which was completely ridiculous to him, because he thought that arm look pretty damn cool, and it packed a serious punch.

But Nero was still young and had probably gotten far more hate for the appendage than he ever should. More than once Dante was tempted to go back to that island and knock some heads together but he resisted the urge.    

It didn’t stop him from trying to form a plan to make Nero more comfortable. He wasn’t exactly a strategist but he did at least recognize he couldn’t just tell Nero to chill the fuck out. Which really sucked because Dante’s wasn’t great with being subtle, but he didn’t want to run the kid off.

Ironically it was a fight that gave Dante the answer. He had been racking his brain trying to come up with some idea and had ended up with nothing. He had taken a pretty nasty sounding job in hopes of clearing his head. Nero came along, which was pretty usual. It was always a good idea to fight in pairs and it was a luxury Dante wasn’t use to having, so he welcomed the company.  

The fight turned out to be a tough one after all. Feeling particularly frustrated in general and wanting to take out the head demon quickly before he could summon more backup (which had already happened three times and was starting to get ridiculous), Dante decided to trigger.

He rarely needed his trigger on these smaller missions, but it was nice to let loose every once in a while. It was always a rush, although he knew he had to be careful about not letting loose too much. His demon form granted him immense strength, but it also brought out more of his darker impulses.

Still he let himself enjoy the feeling of flesh and blood between his claws as he ripped apart the head demon. He usually wasn’t into such messy kills, but his demon side loved it. After finishing off the demon, he turned to check on the kid.

To his amusement Nero looked shocked. It was like the kid had never seen him in his devil form. Then it suddenly hit him, Nero never had seen him fully triggered. Dante could see that behind the initial shock, wonder filled the younger man’s face. Had Nero even realized that he wasn’t the only one with scales and claws? Dante felt like an idiot for not trying this sooner to connect with the kid.

He figured it wasn’t the time for a heart to heart while they were in the middle of a mission. Still he wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste. When they got back he would figure a way to bring it up. Maybe then Nero would finally start to drop his guard around the older hunter.

Despite Dante’s grand plans, Nero actually beat him to the punch. It had been a few days since the mission and the older hybrid was over thinking things again. So when Nero approached him and straight out asked if he could see Dante’s trigger again, he was quite surprised. He would have agreed regardless, but the slight blush and nervousness on Nero’s face would have made him agree to anything. The kid really was too cute sometimes.

Taking a few steps back in order to spare Nero the knockback of his transformation, Dante triggered to his demon form. He then crossed his arms and waited to see what Nero would do. Despite the nervousness he had showed earlier, Nero was quick to approach and even invade Dante’s personal space. Usually he would have protested someone getting so close, but right now he was thrilled.

With a surprisingly steady hand, Nero reached out to touch the older man. It didn’t escape his notice that Nero was using his demonic hand.

Slowly the hand reached towards his face before the younger man asked “are these horns?”

Dante couldn’t help but laugh a little before replying “Yeah I don’t exactly have the prettiest face as a devil, but I like to think the horns are intimidating if nothing else.”

Nero didn’t seem fazed by the deeper, more rumbling voice Dante had when in this form. Instead a new kind of light was in his eyes, and an actual smile was threatening his lips.

“And you have wings too?” he asked as he stepped around to look at Dante from behind.

The older man couldn’t help but flex his wings a bit at that. He inner demon was eating up the attention and Dante was thrilled with Nero’s curiosity.

“Yep” he replied with a fanged grin “comes in real handy with the bigger demons.”

Seemingly done with his inspection Nero stepped back and Dante took that as a sign to de-trigger.

“Do you think I will ever be able to fully trigger like that?” Nero asked after a second, the nervousness back again.

Dante didn’t want to disappoint him, but didn’t want to lie either “I honestly don’t know. You have less demon blood than me, but that arm proves that you do have enough to full trigger, even if it is just your arm for now. With practice you might be able to, but the ghostly trigger you have now might be it too.”

Nero looked a little crest fallen at that, but only for a second before he perked up again “I think I like my arm better than a trigger like that anyway. Those horns are pretty ugly old man.”

“Hey!” Dante protested, but secretly he was relieved.

This was only the start but if a few jabs at his ego was all it took to make Nero genuinely smile and build up some confidence about his arm, Dante was more than willing to take the hits.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 4: Horns  
> Thank you everyone who has been reading and liking. This challenge is pretty intense for me, and the support is really great. I look forward from hearing more from you guys!


	5. Stylish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante and Nero fighting together, because why not?

He would never admit it, but at first, Nero had been nervous about going on a mission with Dante. He didn’t have any problem with idea of going on a mission, in fact he welcomed such fights. The whole point of being in Capulet City was to forget the shit that had happened on Fortuna. And nothing, _nothing_ , helped clear his mind like hunting demons.

No the problem was that he didn’t know how to fight with Dante. Sure he had fought against that man on multiple occasions and had a feel for his style that way. But fighting _against_ someone and fighting _with_ someone was vastly different.

It didn’t help that Nero had only ever gone on single missions as a knight during his days in the Order. His temper and “unique” fighting style didn’t really fit in with the rest of the knights, so it made for sense to send him on his own. Honestly Nero preferred it at the time but now he couldn’t help but wish he had practice working with a partner.

Except partner was perhaps too strong of a phrase to describe Dante. More like an annoying tag along who also happens to be a giant child and is of little to no use. He didn’t have an individual word to convey it. Maybe he would just make “Dante” and “annoying, useless, man child” synonymous.

Needless to say, Nero had gotten over his little hang up pretty damn quickly. Sure, against a tough demon, Dante could get serious and actually contribute to a fight. But most the time they were fighting small fry and the older man did nothing but screw around. He claimed he was being “stylish” but to Nero it seemed more like he was trying to find the most absurd and ridiculous ways to kill demons.

To say it made working with the other hunter annoying would be a _massive_ understatement. And every time Nero would get fed up enough to call him out on it, the older man would just laugh and tell him to ‘chill out’ and ‘have a little fun’ or most infuriating ‘you’re just jealous you aren’t as cool as me’.

Like hell the crazy stunts the older man would pull were ‘cool’. Yeah it was nice to change up your fighting style now and again. If nothing else just to avoid overworking one set of muscles. But purposely launching yourself at a pole, just so you could swing around on it, then launch yourself off to drop kick a demon in the face was just plan stupid. Nero certainly hadn’t swung around on a pole before kicking Dante in the face the first time they met.

But that was the reality of working with the older hunter. Nero was pretty sure no amount of practice would have prepared him for it. Which led to the current situation. Fighting with Dante. They were clearing out a nest of various low-level demons. Individually they were weak, but the massive group together only succeeded in making the fight tedious.

At least Dante was having fun, Nero could hear him laughing and taunting demons as he fought. Personally, he felt that the whole thing was just dragging on. Most of these lower-level demons had the same attack patterns. Once you figured it out, it was rare to see them change their attack strategy. For a fight against blood thirsty hell denizens with blood and body parts flying everywhere, it was pretty mundane.     

They had finished off about 2/3rds of the demons when Nero was suddenly sensed something coming straight at him from behind. Whirling around in an instant he was shocked to see a decapitated demon head flying straight towards him. He was so surprised that he froze for a second and the head collided with his chest before disintegrating into sand and ash. It wasn’t hard to figure out what direction the head had come from.

“Sorry kid!” Dante yelled as he continued to fight, “didn’t mean to hit you!” but the smug look in his eyes made Nero extremely suspicious. The younger hunter turned back around to continue his fight but made sure to keep Dante in the corner of his vision.

Not even a minute later, another head came flying his way.      

Furious Nero turned around once more and yelled “What the hell old man?”

The older man didn’t seem phased by Nero’s yelling, he was too busy snickering so hard he was hunched over. Seeing an opening, one of the demons rushed towards Dante. Before Nero could say anything, Dante straightened, and decapitated the demon in an instant. But instead of just letting the creature fall, the older man then rotated Rebellion and struck the demon head with the flat of his blade.

Nero dodged the impromptu projectile and couldn’t help the anger in his voice as he yelled “Seriously, can you try to put at least some effort into this?”

Laughing the older hunter replied “Lighten up! Its not as easy as it seems. Why don’t you give it a try, then complain about my effort?”

“As if I would waste time and energy just to do something dumb like that” Nero replied, not even caring about the demon’s that were approaching from behind.

“Ha, I bet you can’t do it anyway. You are so dull!” the older man teased with a shit eating grin on his face.

Nero could recognize that Dante was just taunting him. But hell if it wasn’t effective. Nero _had_ to prove he was just as good as Dante, if not better. Even if it was just some stupid thing like this. Nero quickly turned around to confront the approaching demons.

Picking the closest target Nero reached out with his devil bringer to grab the creature before pulling it closer. While the creature was still stunned from the sudden movement, Nero cleanly separated its head from its body and then using the flat of his blade, hit the head off like some absurd golf tee.  

The head went sailing, but missed Dante by a foot or so.

“Shut up!” Nero yelled, blushing furiously as Dante cracked up laughing, “My angle was just shitty. I’ll hit you next time!”

The older hunter stopped laughing almost instantly to say “Next time huh? Bring it on kid!”

And so it was on. It was dumb, and ridiculous, but both hunters started to launch demon heads at one other. It was like a fusion of baseball and dodgeball. But with demon heads… Why was he doing this again?

But he couldn’t stop now. Until he ran out of ammo he wasn’t going to let up for a second. At least the demon hoard was evenly split between the two hunters so each had a similar amount of ammo. It was madness to be fighting on two completely different fronts, but Dante was laughing like crazy and Nero couldn’t help the smile that was growing on his face.

Ok, it was kind of fun to mess around like this. Nero would never say it, but their little match ended up making the mission go by a lot faster. When all the demons were dead and the floor was littered in sand from said dead demons, the two hybrids decided to call a truce.

“Admit it” Dante said as they started to make their way back out of the building “That was a blast.”

Nero scoffed but after a second replied “It was alright” but the stupid grin on his face probably gave him away.

So maybe fighting ‘stylishly’ wasn’t always a waste and dumb. Nero still thought Dante was an idiot but he supposed, statistically, it was possible for the older man to come up with good ideas now and again. Not that Nero would ever say that to him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 5: Hey Batter Batter  
> I have been playing too much Devil May Cry 3 recently. The move where Dante swings around on a pole is from the game and I enjoyed making him swing on the stripper pole at the Love Planet club way too much...

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 1: Extra Limbs


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